Midnight Heart
by DaedraPrincess
Summary: Death Knight Oswald and the story of his path to all the answers. Rated M mostly for violence and language.
1. Author's Introduction

**Introduction**

The novel you are looking at have been created by a whole bunch of people which sincerely love and are interested in the world of Warcraft created by the Blizzard company. I needed almost two years to finish it, and it would be not only difficult but completely impossible to do so without the help of my friends and acquaintances. I want to express my gratitude to them and a hope that someday this novel will be released into the world, and maybe – just maybe – my idea that I wanted to get across would be understood by the readers. The story of Oswald, the main character of the novel, has been finished, but then the other one will begin – maybe it would be more or less interesting, but nevertheless it would be different.

I want to thank the following three persons with all my heart: Solaria, Morion and Waterbird. I wouldn't have been able to write this story without them, and it belongs to them just as it belongs to me. They were the creators of such central characters as Kaetana, Ricanda and Dardasa, the ones who had been travelling with Oswald on his way to the end. The people who had become to him something similar to a family, and who had become a family to myself.

I also want to thank the following remarkable people that took part in the process of creation of this novel, everyone in their own way:

Ligrim

Divine_Wind

Galenfea

Valhall

Zenov

Hfactor

Elkon

Thank you, my dear friends, and I sincerely hope that the finished book will warm your hearts just as it warms mine.

Enjoy.

P.S. The original story was written in Russian. I tried my best to translate it into English, so please do not hesitate to leave a review or correct any mistakes if you find ones. Please bear with me =)

P.P.S. I do not own the Warcraft series, but the characters belong to me and my friends.


	2. Prologue

_And I saw, and behold, a pale horse: and he that sat upon him, his name was Death; and Hades followed with him. And there was given unto them authority over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with famine, and with death, and by the wild beasts of the earth. _

_(__R__evelation__6:8)_

**Prologue**

"What's taking you so long? Get it out already!"

"Sir, I cannot do this any faster! The whole body's been sliced into pieces here!"

The Lieutenant spitted out and turned away. The third corpse…

"Sir, there's someone else here! It's…" A sound of somebody vomiting was heard from the slope to the sewers.

"What is it, Private?"

"Another girl… It's opened her chest like… like…"

"Talk to me!"

"Like open doors! And the internal organs are not damaged… well… Sir, only her heart is missing!"

The Lieutenant swore and reached for his pipe. Four corpses in a month. Killed in a most perverted, sadistic way and… The man didn't have enough words to describe what he had seen – the first ones was nothing but pieces… They were discovered lately, and the boy was thoroughly gnawed by rats, but it was clear that someone had chewed through his throat. The woman who had not been identified yet (and even her gender was hard to define) seemed to had blown up from within. Only pieces and nothing else…

The bodies were slowly taken out of the sewers. The first one was carried in a bucket, because there wasn't much left of him.

On his way past the cart, the Lieutenant noticed a glimpse of something shiny on the hand of the killed boy. His curiosity took the best of him, and he came forward to examine a small but nonetheless clearly expensive ring… with a crest of one of the Houses.

"Shit… Sergeant, send a messenger to the HQ, now! Tell him to inform that we have some serious problems here!"

"Yes Sir". The next minute somebody was already saddling the horse to head to the HQ, and then the Lieutenant crouched beside the body, carefully examining the ring.

The jewel had not been taken off, so he couldn't blame the bandits or robbers for this deed. And what exactly was this boy doing in the slums at night when, according to the healers' words, the murder had occurred? The clothes on the corpse were torn and covered in blood but clearly not expensive. The Lieutenant pondered. Something was very wrong here.

"Sir", one of the healers who had been examining the corpses called for him carefully. "We have problems".

Drying his hands squeamishly with a clean wisp of straw, the Lieutenant turned to the healer.

"We sure do… What do you have there?"

"Here, take a look", the healer stood up and pointed at the more or less undamaged corpse. Seeing that the Lieutenant did not quite understand the case, the healer sighed impatiently and started to explain: "The rats had done their effort here, see? The damage had been inflicted after the boy's death. And those wounds", he pointed to numerous cuts and the opened chest, "were given when the victim was still alive. The one who did this knew exactly what he was doing. None of the vitals had been affected except for the heart. But that's not all", he squatted and shamelessly lifted the rim of skin near one of the wounds with his fingers. "Looks like the wound had been simultaneously cauterized, but there are no burns or blisters. The blood had been like… sucked out."

"Magic?.. You don't mean the sectarians again?"

The Lieutenant carefully examined the wound once again hoping that they both were hallucinating. But nothing changed.

"Not a word about this. We can't allow rumors like that crawl through the city. Do I make myself clear?"

He waited until the healer nodded, and then the man slowly walked outside the alley and inhaled sharply. The air on the main street was a little bit fresher. Dozens of common people were walking by… and every one of them could be involved in what happened behind the Lieutenant's back. The alley had been blocked, and the man who had discovered the bodies was interrogated and scared of the consequences if he would talk too much about it. The corpses would be taken away and buried soon enough… Maybe the aristocrat's body would be claimed by someone though.

Getting his wind and letting out the last smoke curl, the man walked inside the alley and froze, staring at the brick wall. There was a deep scrape on the old masonry that was almost unseen among the other bricks, but it was not covered in a tarnish of mold unlike all the masonry. After a careful examination it was clear that the scrape was not very deep, but the masonry didn't have any split-offs, like the thing that had damaged it was extremely sharp. The most interesting thing was that there were tiny splashes of dried blood visible on one side of the scrape…

* * *

A bunch of guards watching the house silently let Garrotte inside. Two hounds were peacefully lying at the doors. When the man came closer they lifted their heads and growled in unison but did not move from their place. They were well trained and knew that hurting this man was prohibited. The backdoor was opened – they were already waiting for him.

After having walked up the stairs and passed by the same silent guards, Gayle entered the dining room where he saw a tall white-haired man with noble features and a perfectly stony expression standing by the window with his hands clasped behind his straight back.

"Dear Doctor... Glad to see you in good health", his voice sounded sharply in the silence. They tried to avoid names and direct statements. None of the aristocrats would be pleased to find out that he is collaborating with the mercenaries.

Heinrich bowed.

"Good day, Your Grace".

Gayle looked around carefully and discovered a few things which indicated that the House was preparing for mourning.

The man half turned, and tenacious gray eyes sank into Gayle.

"I believe you have already guessed why I have invited you here," the aristocrat asked gently and at the same time with a tone that brooked no objection. "You've heard rumors about what's going on in Old Town", it was more of a statement than a question.

Hands clasped behind his back, Gayle nodded, carefully looking somewhere behind the speaker's shoulder.

"I suspect that you're talking about the murders of four people that were especially brutal, even for Stormwind".

The aristocrat turned his whole body to Heinrich, and the Doctor finally saw how pale his face was. The sunken eyes glimmered with an unhealthy light, and the jaws were clenched so that he was about to hear the teeth creaking.

"Yes, I'm talking about it of course. I turned to you as our previous collaboration was more than ...beneficial for both of us. I think you will not refuse the honor to work for the benefit of our House again".

Heinrich nodded, not reacting to either the man's condition or what he said.

"You're right; I would be honored to help you. But let's get straight to the point. Have you invited me because you know who the killer is?"

"No. All I know is that my son is dead. Found in a sewer this morning in a state..." the aristocrat behaved appropriately, but then his voice cracked barely noticeable. "Which made it difficult to even identify the body. His ring and clothes, that's all that helped me to recognize my own son. Of course, I do not condone some of his ...strange hobbies, but I do not believe he'd deserved to die like this just because he was sometimes having a good time with the ladies from the consolation house". The aristocrat paused; it was obviously frustrating for him to talk about it. "Doctor, I want you to catch the bastard who did all of this. I do not care about the homeless and prostitutes, but my son has to be avenged. I'll pay you as much as you say if you bring him to me or at least bring his head".

Heinrich nodded expressing his condolences.

"I will do everything that is in my power, Your Grace. However, I will need access to the guard securities in order to know what they have found; it may help the cause. I also need five gold coins now to buy information. I want to know whom your son visited, how often, and the approximate time of when he left. And else..." Gayle pursed his lip. "I will have to share the information with my people. For my part, I can guarantee that the information will not go past their ears".

"I trust you. I do not think that you will let me down", the aristocrat looked at Gale not considering it necessary to clarify what exactly would happen to Heinrich if he still fails. "You'll get everything you need. I'm afraid I have no information what exactly my son was doing in those neighborhoods. You'll have to talk to the local ladies", he winced barely visibly. "Everything else I can provide. Money, securities, links. Most importantly, I do not want it to go beyond my communication with you. Your people need to know how serious it all is. I can not risk my position", he nodded as if to himself, then turned to the window.

"Everything will be done, and your son will be avenged, Your Grace".


	3. Chapter 1: Stormwind Nightwalkers

_A few days earlier..._

Heinrich jumped off the ramp deftly and looked around.

The night was just like he wanted it: moonless, cold and wet. People prefer not to stick their noses outside on such nights, and therefore there will be fewer problems.

A huge man approached Gayle. Apparently, he worked right here in the port... And judging by his fists and toothless mouth, he surely didn't work with the papers.

Heinrich meekly shook hands with the thug and explain briefly what he needed. Time was running out, and it was necessary to deliver the elf urgently to the house. Otherwise there will be trouble.

Unloading of the ship was in full swing. Heinrich told Elza to monitor the condition of Ligrim, and if anything happens... but if anything really happens, everyone would learn about it very quickly. Apparently, the death knight in his craving bears little resemblance to a sentient being in any way...

Time was running out...

Half an hour later, a cart with an old wagoneer squeezed to the ship while dodging the already offloaded boxes.

"Where's your cargo? Give it to me, I'll deliver it in the best way, Doc, don't you worry".

Elza was sitting next to Ligrim who seemed to have been unconscious. His muscles periodically contracted spasmodically, even under the influence of Heinrich's strong drug. It was evident that the further, the worse the drug affects him. When Ligrim reaches the state of uncontrollable rage, only death would be able to stop him.

Elza shuddered trying not to think about it.

Heinrich entered the cabin, indicating the thug walking behind him to get Ligrim.

"Him".

Gayle smiled awkwardly, turning to Elza and not paying attention to the fact that the thug took the elf by the waist and carried him to the pier not so gently.

"I think we'll make it. And then... then I'll try to find a... victim as soon as possible".

It was evident that this idea did not please Gayle; there will be questions because of such actions... And questions are not a good thing for someone with Heinrich's profession.

Meanwhile, the "porter" raised the elf to the cart, not paying attention to suspicious looks of sailors and longshoremen's frightened glances. The wagoneer slowly moved back and helped to put Ligrim down. He then took a couple of sturdy ropes and literally tied the elf to the floor of the cart. A moment later, he put an inverted coffin on top of the lying figure.

"There it is. I'll go now… Though I'm more used to work with more… dead dead".

The thug just shrugged and quickly stepped aside, letting the cart pass.

Elza came to Ligrim and grimaced, looking at result. She wasn't pleased that the elf was necessary to be handled like this, but there was really no other choice. She turned to Garrotte.

"And how exactly are you going to... solve this problem?" She looked into his eyes suspiciously.

"I will try to solve it quickly. Otherwise we will have to do everything rough. One person I can find... and I hope one victim will be enough for the elf. If not, I will give serious thought to continuing the relationship with this knight".

Heinrich examined the ship thoughtfully and shrugged.

"Let's go on foot. We will arrive faster as the undertaker will travel through the deserted streets... just in case".

"Are you sure leaving them alone is a good idea?" Elza put her hands in the pockets and walked to Garrotte, watching the cart leaving. "What if ... something happens?" she added in a low voice. Her eyes betrayed suspicion and anxiety which hadn't been there before, even in battles against superior forces of undead.

She looked at Heinrich and her face softened a little.

"I suppose nothing has changed at your home... Hope you're not going to lock me in a room with no windows and a locked door," she smiled bitterly.

"If anything happens to this cart, I want to be as far as possible. And then we will deal with it." Heinrich walked quietly through the deserted streets. "Anyway, I did promise that I would not close the doors in front of you, and this promise remains in force".

Elza shrugged and followed Heinrich, adjusting easily to his pace.

* * *

The cart rolled peacefully across the cobblestones. The wagoneer was whistling some kind of a merry thief's song through the gaps between his teeth and kept glancing around. He had already become accustomed to the fact that his cargo groans and howls occasionally; he had seen worse. He recalled like it was in Stratholme; they were carrying that huckster one time...

The elf finally woke up and pondered for a couple of minutes. What the hell was going on? It's dark, he is tied up and everything shakes in addition. But all that thought was interrupted by the smell of living blood. His entire excerpt instantly evaporated. Breaking the bonds abruptly and throwing the lid of the coffin with a powerful blow, the elf grabbed the old man's throat. When it was over, the knight dumped the corpse into the channel and headed toward the Dwarves Quarter through roundabout ways.

* * *

... A moonless night. It was nights like this when he used to go out to hunt. The darkness covering the city at this time hid his existence from the eyes of short-sighted mortals. Oswald could smell blood nearby, but he restrained himself; he used to not give out his hunger, but now that it has been more than two weeks after the last murder, the pain made itself felt again. His head throbbed as if it was methodically drilled through the temple, and red stains slipped before his eyes every now and then, causing him to wince painfully.

The horse went slowly across the bridge to Old Town and kept stumbling over the cobblestones. It fed on the energy of the knight himself, and now it was as weak as he was. It only occasionally snorted in protest, pulling its head, but the iron grip of the rider was holding the reins firmly. The entry to Old Town appeared shortly before their eyes.

Oswald liked this place. One could always find prey here, and it always smelled like blood: people destroyed themselves with delight, making his work much easier because any random dead body or a person's disappearance could be attributed to the local bandit groups, and no one had ever sought for homeless and prostitutes. He wasn't picky, but always picked. Glancing around and heeding to instinct, the knight realized that there was no one who could see how the black rider slipped into the old quarter like a shadow. The guard here was not particularly vigilant; no one wanted to work in such a place, which facilitated the task even further. However, he felt the presence of something familiar nearby. The smell of death, but not the one that usually accompanies the stuffy, dark and depressing town where everyone is ready to stab another in the back. No, it was another death: old, muffled, full of anguish and suffering. The scent of undead.

And how on earth did it happen that the elf almost ran into the rider in the dark! Cursing under his breath, the elf peered more closely and grinned. The blade - old, forged back in Acherus, and crocked with some rags, - pressed routinely on his back. But the rider smelled of death. And of weakness.

"Apparently, I'm not the only one who has been driven to hunt of hunger?" the elf inquired quietly.

The rider stopped. The horse's hoof hit the ground, striking several blueish sparks out of it. The rider was chained in saronite armor that glistened dimly in the darkness, and wrapped in a fur coat even though it was warm and even hot outside, but he did not seem to pay attention to it. The hood hid his face, but when the rider turned his head towards Ligrim, a cold light of a sparkling eye flashed from beneath the cloth. The eye of a Death Knight.

"Fool," his voice was hollow and echoed among the stone walls of the city. He froze like a sphinx, giving the elf a cold look. Oh, he knew perfectly how hungry this one was. "You worked yourself into exhaustion. Most unwise".

The rider pulled back his hood and looked at Ligrim. His face, distorted of death and decay, was warped by some kind of an eerie half-smile; bare bone appeared on one side of his jaw giving his smirk a hellish expression. Apparently, he had been resurrected when the decomposition of his dead body had already begun, and it was not able to turn back even with the magic of the Lich King. But the knight did not care one bit.

He finally pulled away, riding up closer. His own pain was now safely hidden away under the cover of the saronite armor, and only those who knew it by themselves could notice it: the sickly bright glowing of the eyes; the skin too pale even for a dead man that seemed about to fall off like ashes; the tense smirk that contrasted sharply with the cold, aloof voice. The rider dismounted and ran his hand in a plate gauntlet distractedly and slowly across the horse's neck, ordering it to stay put. The horse froze motionless in the same way as its master did and almost merged into the surrounding darkness.

"Killing people on the ship in the middle of the sea would be even more foolish. I had to finish off the coachman but that was not enough, he died too quickly".

The elf looked at the stranger, eyeing his jaw with interest. He chuckled faintly and folded his arms across his chest. There was no armor visible on him, but it was impossible say for sure, as his figure was concealed with a dense black cloak. A crossing of the blade was sticking over his left shoulder.

"I see you're having a hard time too, otherwise you would not have come out in such a desolate night to this district, right?" the elf almost completely blended with the shadows, only his eyes glowed coldly in the dark, looking directly at his kindred.

"We should move. Otherwise everything will soon start all over again".

The rider walked away from the horse silently, making an imperceptible hand gesture. The horse began to melt slowly: his body was gone at first, then the hooves... its eyes glowing with a blue light were the last. But they vanished too a second later, and the ghostly horse went to Acherus where it was once created out of a living being and transformed into undead. The Death Knight stood there swaying on the spot, his hands clasped behind his back, and then he turned to Ligrim.

"My name is Anderfels", he said, holding out his hand and staring at the elf. "Come on. I'll help you. I know this district well".

The elf watched the manipulations of this man carefully. The thirst fell back for a while, but not for long, the knight was sure of it. It always came back. The knight pressed the offered hand warmly and grinned.

"Ligrim. This district is most suitable for that, is it not? Even the guard rarely comes here. Thank you, brother. I've been waiting for this for too long".

The elf felt a faint smell of blood somewhere in the distance, and it literally forced him to go crazy, to move his hands pulling out the sword against his will. Too much time has passed. Too much. "Probably a good thing that Elza's not here. She definitely should not look at this. But I need to find her, anyway. Later. Everything later". The elf glanced up at the sky and smiled. Everything was turning out perfect.

Without saying a word, the knight who identified himself as Anderfels went to Old Town. The narrow streets meandering from side to side, rising and falling were more like a path. Stacked with cobblestone that was split in many spots, these streets were well known to the death knight; it was not his first time to walk them with his eyes closed and his hood pulled down, focusing not by vision but by mere instinct, like a predator prowling in search of a hidden prey. The elf followed him, at least he thought so: the feeling of a nearby undead did not falter. Anderfels thought that the elf could fail if anything goes wrong: he saw that it is more difficult for the elf to control himself during famine. In this case, Anderfels would be forced to stun him. One could not take the risk to be caught, or else the whole hunting would come to nothing, and it was unlikely he could ever even come back here. He would have to find a new lair, and the death knight was very reluctant to do so. He generally disliked changes.

They soon deepened into the old part of the city, and the deserted streets on which human silhouettes were sometimes seen, flashed by lights of burning pipes and lamps, emptied even more. A dead silence broken only by the distant barking of dogs and someone's laughter wafting from the windows was disturbed only by a rustle of fur cape and a thud of boots on the road.

A small stone hit the back of Oswald's head.

"Hey, guys! Don't you happen to have a few coins for a drink?"

Two strangers stood behind them. A stocky figure of a dwarf appeared at the end of the the alley. He was carrying a club on his shoulder with an iron ball on the pommel.

"And maybe you have something else to give away? We won't touch you unless you specifically make a row".

"Giz, let's finish them to rats' delight, why do you make a fuss over these suckers?"

"Hush, we'll wait for a response. We ain't some rag-tag..."

The elf slightly slowed his pace, glancing at his companion. Blood. Drunken scum, they do not pose any threat to the two death knights. Entertainment. Warm-up, nothing more.

"What do you think?" The elf quietly inquired, clenching his jaw. The long-awaited life; the blood that could be taken without any problems. It was increasingly difficult to hold back, and the undeniable sense of superiority poured more fuel to the flames. They could handle these thugs effortlessly. No one would have time to even scream.

The man stood dead in his tracks when the pebble struck the back of his head. He stood there for a few seconds, and then turned around slowly. It was impossible to see his face in the dark and under the hood, but Ligrim standing next to him could see that his face was warped by an expression of deepest contempt and desire at the same time. He calmly looked at the two who were closest to him, and raised his hand as if to greet them.

"How convenient", he said in his usual emotionless tone, which however betrayed a note of ridicule. "Ligrim, this", he stretched out his arm and pointed at the people, "is yours. They are too arrogant to be dangerous".

"Thanks, brother", the elf mouthed, slowly walking to those two. No weapon was visible, and it only urged the elf on. Approaching them very closely, the elf pulled his hood lower and said, swaying slightly with his arms relaxed, as if considering:

"Valuables... Yes. You do have them. Your worthless lives".

The elf abruptly stroke the robber in Adam's apple with the edge of his palm, immediately striking the one standing in front of him in the stomach. It had to stun them, overwhelm, give the opportunity to develop the blow.

The first one did not have time to react; he grasped his throat and fell to his knees spitting blood. Apparently, Ligrim broke his trachea.

The second one was more fortunate: he evaded the strike on a tangent, deftly struck the elf's throat with a razor and leaped back.

"Pray your mother to bring you back where you came from, you bastard!"

Realizing that the victim are not very receptive, the dwarf quickly moved forward, threw his mace up with his shoulder and abruptly hit the chest of the standing men with it.

The elf did not pay any attention to the cut, he hit the man fallen to his knees in the nose with the tip of his boot, and took a step toward the one who was armed with a razor. The blood spurred the body, gave new energy, and cleared the mind.

"Come here. Or are you a coward? Come on, I'm unarmed. Come here, you bastard".

The elf laughed. The smell of blood was driving him crazy, forcing him to wish for more. After such a long wait, he was finally getting what he wanted. He just did not have the right to miss the chance.

Anderfels, who was completely motionless at first glance, stepped back at a speed impossible for an average person. The club only struck his breastplate leaving a long scratch, but nothing more. He did not even reach for his sword. These creatures belonged to Ligrim; he decided that he could endure a little longer, letting his less persistent brother fully enjoy these three. Raising his hands in the air with a sharp gesture, he tossed the dwarf up with a death grip and abruptly hit him at the wall of a building nearby with enough power to knock the spirit out of a horse. Glancing at the dwarf, he froze again, his arms and his head down, turning once again into an immobile statue - but only at first glance. Thirst was raging inside him like a wild beast, throbbing in ecstasy from a sensation of close saturation.

The dwarf hit the wall, and a sickening crunch echoed down the alley. He tried to get up... and realized that he doesn't feel his legs completely. The club was too far away, but the bearded man decided to defend his own skin even in this situation. He took a shiv out of the secret sheath and directed it at his opponent.

The lucky one was also smart. Quickly assessing the situation that was developing by no means in favor of the robbers, he leaped back without further ado and briskly slipped into the narrow space between the houses.

The elf walked quickly to the club, picked it up, weighed it appreciatively in his hand and headed towards the man whose neck was broken with an evil grin.

"One of them ran away, I didn't have time. One more survived, excluding the dwarf. Take one of them, brother. Leave the other one to me".

Suffering and death were literally in the air, returning strength to the elf, banishing his apathy. The blood spurred like a whip, urged him to finish the job. Murder, only murder could eventually silence the thirst. This incomparable pleasure when you take away someone's life was the only cure.

"I said it's all yours. I'll wait. I need some other conditions", Anderfels said, watching the dwarf crawl on the ground shaking with pain. No, it was not his style. He preferred to play with his victim, to see fear rising in the eyes of a living, terror of imminent pain and death, which in the end is a relief to the dying victim and to the killer. Now it seemed to him that the victim was inappropriate. It was... not clean.

The pain purifies, someone said once, when the death knight was still alive. Maybe they were right, maybe not, but one thing was clear for sure: sensing the imminent end, a man turns into a beast with only one instinct: survival. This distorted reflection of his own pain and instinct of absorption filling the Death Knight gave some sense of equal exchange. Anderfels gave them purification through suffering, and liberation through death, in return receiving strength and opportunity to continue his unholy existence. It was beautiful with the same merciless, untamed beauty that exists only in the fevered mind of a killer.

"Well, it's your funeral. Thank you".

The elf swung his weapon not widely, hammering the mace into the hand of the man fallen down to his knees. The pain... Pain and blood saturated the death knight, gave him new energy. He was never a supporter of a slow, thoughtful murder. No, thank you. Boring, long, dirty, while the effect is the same. So why fuss about it? If he had his blade now with him, all could be done without this filth. It was much easier and faster.

The elf pulled the mace out of the man's hand and stopped the suffering of the unfortunate bandit with a single blow to the head. He went to the dwarf and stood there as if wondering, and then crashed through his skull with a sickening crunch. He tossed the mace to the ground and looked at Anderfels.

"Thanks. Let's get out of here".

The death knight nodded and came out of his stupor, heading further in soft, almost catlike steps. He hoped that they will not bump into a large company: it would be too noticeable, and entailed the omission of witnesses how it had happened with the bandit who had escaped. The death knight decided for himself that he would hunt down this creature afterwards and finish the job; he did not like to take risks.

Anderfels did not turn. He wanted the elf to follow, but he knew that now Ligrim can be on his way. They were both alone in this world filled with light and life; they were both marked by a curse that nobody can take away. And even having met, each of them felt their solitude even more acute than ever before. They were allies in this dance of death, but when the battle was over, when the last creature emitted its last breath, they had to go their own ways.

The elf followed him in silence. The energy was bubbling over the edge, it needed an outlet. Searching for Elza and Heinrich would be pointless now, like searching for a needle in a haystack. Broken, twisted organism of the death knight demanded kills, stirred the blood like an alarm bell. He had to restrain himself for too long, had to tolerate the presence of the living nearby breaking his own essence over his knee. Enough. It was his time. This knight had turned up exceptionally well, he could help him. Just like the elf could help him in turn.

"Disgusting... Dirty, long, and I missed one in addition. Idiot, I really did make a blunder. He is unlikely to run to the city guard, but the rumors will spread," the elf broke the silence quietly, noiselessly walking behind Anderfels.

* * *

The night is cold, nasty, and the lad is puffing and has a disgusting smell from his mouth. Today turned out to be hideous... or rather tonight. And her little son is at home, sleeping, how is he do-…

"Oh! What are you doing?'

"Came off. Why are you so inanimate, can you move around a little bit?"

"Unsatisfied? For that money, you can only hump a log. Well, where are you... Let me give you a hand..."

The death knight moved closer quietly, standing nearby in the shadows and watching this picture. Puffing and wheezing, some hideous sounds reached his ears, but he was in no hurry to interrupt those creatures. They were so busy doing whatever they were doing that they did not notice him at all. He decided that he did not need the guy, but the girl might fit well. So he had to get rid of the excess meat.

The elf appeared behind him inaudibly and peered into the distance. Strictly speaking, the image was insteresting.

The knight chuckled faintly and leaned against the wall of the house, lost in the shadow almost completely. He didn't want to be noticed ahead of time.

"Which one?" he asked of Anderfels concisely, hoping that he would understand it correctly.

The client was standing with his back to them and tried to depict something similar to what he had heard from the older comrades, but it seemed he had no luck in love affairs...

The hooker had also noticed a high... man, probably. After watching him and realizing that the stranger is looking at them, she tried to wave her hand. The stranger did not understand apparently, and she hissed quietly:

"Go away, don't interrupt! If you want some too, then give me two more minutes!"

Hearing Ligrim's question, the death knight raised his hand in a gesture that meant "Hush." He went to the couple, grabbed the guy's collar unceremoniously, pulled him away from the girl and looked him in the eye. Anderfels's single eye sparkled with cold razor-cutting light, and an eerie smile appeared on his face.

"Get out. I'll take this", he pointed at the girl.

"What are you doing, you freak! Let go!"

The guy was actively fluttering and grabbed the knight's hood.

After a moment, the woman who was about to yell at the bugger clenched her jaw with a spasm of fear.

The alley was filled with a loud scream, fear and hopelessness mixed equally in it...

But Old Town was used to screaming.

Sighing heavily, Anderfels realized that he had to act fast. He hated to rush, but there was no other choice in this case. With a lightning-quick motion, he clenched the guy's throat. There was a crunch, the man wheezed, gurgled, his eyes bulged, and a trickle of blood ran down his opened mouth.

"Hold her", the death knight told Ligrim calmly, confident that he would understand properly.

The hand clenched harder and harder, and the guy had almost ceased fluttering, the bloodied whites of his eyes were trembling in its death throes... Anderfels let him go and the boy crumbled on the pavement, scraping his fingernails against cold stone and coughing blood. But he was still alive.

The elf appeared soundlessly behind the woman's back, wincing from her screaming. The knight clamped a hand over her mouth first of all, squeezing her shoulder with his other hand's iron fingers. Now the victim won't run away.

"And a corpse once again. However, it was his own fault", the elf sighed looking at Anderfels. "What are you going to do to her next?"

The man was standing over the guy who was writhing in pain and tried unsuccessfully to catch some air, and thoughtfully rocked on his toes. Finally coming to some kind of conclusion, he leaned over the guy and looked him in the eye. The pain in his glance stirred with fear and Anderfels smiled patting him on the shoulder in an almost fatherly way. He then stood up and turned to the girl, eyeing her up and down. He tapped the bone protruding from his cheekbone and nodded to himself.

"I think you wish to live", he asked in a suddenly soft voice, walking up to her and looking into her frightened face. The unusual softness in his voice was not caused by sympathy or pity. Ligrim could feel the voice of the death knight quivering almost imperceptibly with anticipation of pleasure and satiety.

The fear of a cornered rat is dangerous. Feeling that the delay could cost her something more than life, the woman awkwardly pulled a wooden hairpin out of her skirt pocket and plunged it abruptly under Oswald's chin. The hairpin broke the skin, tongue, and palate and went out in his nasal sinuses, it haven't reach the brain just a little bit.

The death knight swayed and threw his head back, letting out a low uterine growl. The pain lashed his entire body, but not from the strike itself but from the fact that the thirst broke out with renewed vigor. He grabbed the end of the hairpin sticking out from under his chin and slowly pulled it down. There was a crackle when the hairpin broke the cartilage, but blood didn't flow from the wound. Instead, some kind of semitransparent liquid trickled slowly, drop by drop down his neck and to somewhere under his breastplate. The death knight narrowed his eye looking in the nighttime sky, and he turned the hairpin over in his hands.

"Look at that, Ligrim. It's trying to bite. How sweet", he took the womans hand with which she stroke and twisted it sharply. There was a crunch of breaking bones.

"Ineffective. Predictable. Disabling logical thinking at the moment of mortal danger is the biggest weakness of the living. Sadly", said the elf phlegmatically, staring into the sky, but without even thinking of loosening his grip.

The woman tried to scream, but the elf's palm did not allow her to do it. Tears streamed down from her eyes, her legs buckled and she nearly fell, but Ligrim's grip held her in place. Through pain and cramping she looked at the crippled arm broken at the elbow, and her mind was starting to fade away...

Anderfels wiped his neck which was dripping with the fluid from the laceration on his throat and struck the girl lightly across the cheek. He allowed himself to get angry at her for this pathetic attempt to defend herself, but he could not allow her to lose consciousness. Leaning to her and breathing on her with a scent of stench and decay, he hissed:

"You dare deny what I am giving you? Pathetic mortal being... Clinging to a life that is meaningless and short, you still realize that you are mine now." He broke off, his eye widened, his face was distorted with an expression of desperate hunger. "But I'll give you a chance". He straightened up and looked at the guy who was still alive, though he was already on the brink of death. He reached for the girl and put a hairpin into her hand, stepping back. "Kill it. End its misery, and you will live. Maybe".

The woman looked blearily at her tormentor; slowly lifted the hairpin to her eye level... shifted her gaze to the guy who was choking on bloody saliva and nodded.

Anderfels nodded to Ligrim and motioned for him to let go of the girl. Taking her by the neck, he threw her on the pavement so that she landed her broken arm right onto the dying man.

"Another trick of yours, and you will die slowly", Anderfels said melancholically, standing next to her and gazing at her. "Very slowly".

Pain shot through the body, but the hope yet lived. Slowly rising, the woman looked at the guy for the last time and plunged her hairpin into his stomach with a cry of desperate hope. And once again... and again... She missed; the hairpin hit the ribs and broke down with a dry click.

The boy was still alive… The woman turned around and saw such a void in the eyes of her tormentors that a new wave of fear totally knocked out the remains of her mind. You need to kill to survive. No other way.

Reaching out to the guy's head, the woman fell on him all over and sank her teeth into his neck. She was biting, tearing, clenching... A fountain of blood streamed from the torn artery, but the woman could not stop. Only a minute later, having come toher feelings she realized that the man's throat was literally torn to the spine... The poor fellow had been dead for a long time.

The elf watched over the actions of the woman with disgust, discarding a pebble from beneath his legs with the toe of his boot and watching her closely.

"How cute ... This is what the desire to live brings, unfortunately, it is meaningless in this situation".

Anderfels watched the actions taking place before his eyes with some kind of concealed joy, closing his eyes and smiling. When the girl finished, he turned to Ligrim.

"Well, I think we've got a decent performance. Maybe I will even think about a reward for such a talented actor", he smiled predatorily and walked over to the girl, holding her by the hair and looking at her bloodied face and eyes bulging with terror. Searching for something around himself with his eyes, he sighed.

"And as always, nothing that might fit as a rope. Well. There are other methods", he threw the girl to the ground and drew his sword, but was in no hurry to use it. The sword glistened dimly in the light of night lanterns and it seemed that it was not made of metal, but of something black, alive, and wiggling.

"And now", the death knight whispered softly, raising his sword and licking his dry lips with the punctured tongue, "sing for me. Soothe my pain".

The blade dropped abruptly, cutting into the yielding flesh like a knife through butter, chopping the bones of the forearm... Blood gushed to the ground, filling Anderfels's brain with delicious pleasure.

"But you promi-АААRRRGH..."

The girl broke into screaming, but after a few minutes she choked. It was something worse than pain. Worse than suffering.

It was death in its pure form.

A wild convulsion drove through the body... A jerk - and her arm was left lying on the pavement, the fingers dancing some kind of a wild tap dance. The woman, feeling that with each thrust of her breaking heart she's losing blood... which was running out of her into the sword under some mysterious pressure, she jerked sideways, ignoring the wild pain in her broken arm, she turned over on her stomach and tried to crawl away on her hands and knees... at least somewhere...

"This passion for theatrical gestures of yours surprises me", the elf shrugged slightly. "However, who am I to judge".

The sword flashed blood-red when the thin stream of blood crept up the blade, enveloping it and soaking into the runes inscribed on the blade, filling them with power. The glow of the sword that just received blood trembled and danced in the reflections of lanterns. The runes were ready, and there was only a small detail left... the death knight himself.

The woman's scream flowed into Anderfels's mind like blissful music causing him to squint and wobble in place, but the case was still pending. The sword received its blood, and the knight had to receive a death.

Opening his eyes, Anderfels overtook the poor woman in several steps and pinned her to the ground with his foot on her back. He cocked his head on one side looking at how she twitches and moans, how ridiculously tries to crawl away, and his face twisted in disgust and pleasure at the same time.

"You look like a bug", he said in a trembling voice, "Like a huge bug whos legs have been torn off. A pitiful sight".

He raised his sword and began to strike with a guttural growl. It seemed the weapon sang in his hands, swished through air and flesh. The girl did not die right away. He was chopping off piece by piece of her, savoring every moment, every drop of blood, every animal cry, which became fainter and fainter... When the agony began to devour her and the girl's shredded body pounded in convulsions, the death knight turned her over and looked into her eyes. He was trying to soak up every moment; her expression and eyes distorted by a sense of of approaching death were more beautiful than all things in the world to him.

"Thank you", the death knight whispered so softly that his voice sounded like the wind noise among the streets.

He thought he heard a soft hiss when his blade slashed the girl's body almost in half, and a sharp smell of blood hit his nostrils. Ecstasy pierced through his entire being and he screamed unable to hold back anymore. The blood of another being flowed into the cold empty veins. Hot and living, it made the dead heart beat… Only a few times, but the knight sensed it. The beating of his own heart silenced what it seemed to be a century ago was more beautiful than all earthly pleasures. The scream turned into a muffled groan, and bloody foam flowed across Anderfels's chin. He looked at the girl's body lovingly. She was gutted like a cow at a slaughterhouse. A puddle of dark, steaming blood was spreading below the knight and the girl. Fragments of her entrails slowly plopped from the blade of his sword and fell to the ground.

She was dead. But now she no longer looked even remotely like a human being. It was pieces of something red and hideous.

Meat. Just meat.

Anderfels rose, looked at the remains with quiet sadness and turned away. It was time to leave.

The elf grimaced in disgust and looked at Anderfels.

"And what do we do with this pile of meat? No psycho is capable of such things. If... they find it, they will blame the knights in the first place".

The death knight did not even glance at the result of his actions. The street looked as if a real massacre broke out in it; no sane person could do something like this. Even a maniac.

But Anderfels was no longer a human. He turned his head and looked at Ligrim.

"Let our suffering last, brother", his otherworldly voice murmured as an echo, and the death knight stepped into darkness. After a few seconds he was gone, leaving only wind and devastation.

"You're such a maniac, buddy..." the elf muttered to him and walked away from this place. Anderfels was a real, pure maniac. Few from the Blade possessed such a perverted mind. After a few steps, the elf paused in thought and turned. He had to do something with these two. He ripped off the guy's jacket so as not to get his hands dirty. Swearing under his breath, the elf shoved the remains of the woman and the guy's body into a nearby manhole, wiped the line of blood leading to the hatch with the jacket, and threw down the thing which turned into a simple rag. Once again, he swore and walked away from this place quickly. There was only a pool of blood left on the pavement.


	4. Chapter 2: Phantoms

The sunset smeared crimson watercolor above the house roofs. The sun was caught by its edge over the vane spokes, as if it delayed at last before the night comes into its own. A breeze was blowing from the sea, entangled in the branches of darkening bronze trees.

Long rosy shadows covered the cathedral square with a curlicue. Trees, bushes, poles, benches, cast iron handrail of porches - everything cast its transparent and crumpled lace on the pavement.

There were few passers-by.

That's when a girl dressed in a blue priestly gown and a short cape folded behind her the shoulders came out to the square from the road to the port. A very common girl, remarkable only for that hair color – it was dark red, like an autumn leaf, - and a very decent, almost masculine height.

She lingered a little, adjusted the strap of a small leather bag on her shoulder. Taking her time, she headed towards the Cathedral.

Several minutes passed. The sun was setting, turning the shadows into long dark scars on the pavement. The wind grew stronger, carrying the salty smell and distant echoes of seagulls from the sea. The cathedral square was getting quieter - the sound of steps, the rhythmic talking of priests and pilgrims, the slamming of doors and shutters was slowly dying away. Only a remote leaping, almost hysterical barking of a dog and a quiet ringing of bells announced the beginning of a new hour.

And something more… the clatter of hooves.

This silence was artificial. Never before did the center of the city fall silent as dramatically and as fearfully as this evening. People were shocked by the rumors of killings in Old Town, but here at the citadel of Light and salvation it all seemed just scary fairytales that the poor used to tell their children in order to save them from cruel robbers and thieves. Just fairy tales, phantoms, fantasies generated by someone's imagination gone too far.

And yet... Now it seemed that the ghosts touched this reality when a frozen lump of ice-cold silence was cut by a clop of a rider, riding slowly down the street past the Cathedral, slowly as if floating down in a thick haze of the evening, almost merging with the shadows cast between houses. This figure appeared both as a fantasy generated by the sunset sky and as something very alien, as the darkness can possibly be alien to Light.

The rider looked straight ahead, ignoring everything else. The horse was putting its subtle bony legs one before another like stilts and made no sound. The street emptied. The people shut the windows and doors, trying to convince themselves that they were just hiding from the wind and the looming rain, but deep down knowing that they just do not want to make eye contact with the stranger.

He approached the girl from behind and pulled on the reins a little. The horse huffed, but this sound was more like as if a large sheet of paper was wrinkled.

She did not hurry her steps after hearing the clatter of hooves. She even didn't turn around when the pulled reins clinked almost directly above her shoulder and there was a dry, somewhat hoarse sound.

She turned around - and slowed down, slightly stepping aside for the rider not to shove her with his horse. A serene and friendly glance briefly ran around him, pausing shortly on his face - an understandable curiosity, after all the death knights rarely appeared in this quarter just like that, without any business.

The girl's face was calm and a little tired. A usual, moderately attractive face with clear gray eyes and a small obstinate mouth. It didn't seem that this unexpected encounter bothered her.

The rider's face was half covered with a dark hood of a tattered fur coat that once had a color, but now it has become just vaguely gray with some kind of streaks and stains. And so was his armor made of dark metal on which barely visible reflections crept, although no apparent source of light was nearby, creating an illusion that the armor was alive and moving.

The rider stopped, frozen for a few seconds. The horse's mane also covered its eyes like a hood, turning the dead animal into an even more inanimate object with no personality and no soul. Something unnaturally white could be seen from under the hood, but it could not be determined because of the evening twilight and shadow play.

Oswald felt a strange sensation coming from this human. He had intended to simply pass by, maybe hitting the girl by a horse - he did not care. But something made him stop and look at her. A certain feeling that lashed the heart that long stopped beating with a wave of acute pain that could be compared to nothing. He was not hungry, and a sudden desire jumped to his throat as if out of nowhere. The death knight was confused for the first time in the last years of his un-life, and it made him stop.

An empty gaze slid over her, caught on red hair and stopped on her face as if looking for something.

The girl tilted her head slightly to one side. It seemed that the knight wanted to say or ask something but hesitated for some reason - maybe his vocal cords were injured, maybe he just did not want to scare her off. Or he was ashamed – even this happens to them sometimes...

A searching look from under his shabby hood felt on her skin as a sharp dagger-like chill.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her words accompanied by a welcoming smile.

The rider seemed somehow... restless to her. Whether cautious beyond measure or just irritated. There was no need to see the knight's face to feel this tension; his almost physically perceptible gaze was enough.

Oswald winced hardly noticeable hearing her voice. He did not immediately realize what she said; it was not important for him. He caught the smallest changes of intonation, listened to the tone, looked for emotions: something that was so mysterious in the mortals and that caused such sharp despair... She looked questioningly at the death knight, and he again replayed her words in his memory.

"You... can't", Anderfels's raspy voice sounded, and he threw back his hood due to some momentary impulse, staring into the girl's eyes with his one. The left one of his eyes was empty and dead, however it was the only one that spoke the truth. A face once lovely but now disfigured of death presented itself before the girl, looking like a poorly tailored tapestry: stains of death and decay were scattered upon it, mixed up with parts still alive.

_What is this strange place_, Anderfels thought. What kind of mysterious land where he has to live, constantly battling with incomprehension of what is happening around him? What is this creature that has this look... no, rather this sense of life energy coming from it as clean and concentrated that it literally made him grind his teeth... The fact of the girl's existence alone turned over all of his nature, forced the remnants of his feelings to writhe in an almost unbearable agony of awareness of the wickedness of his own existence. It was agonizing. Unbearable. And yet he couldn't stop looking. Just couldn't.

"You can't help me", he repeated, almost completely seeing clearly before his eyes as this mortal creature screams in agony, struggling in his arms, dripping blood and life, becoming one with him and dissolving into the endless void of the death knight. _No, don't_, flashed through his mind, driving away those obsessive thoughts. It was the center of Cathedral Quarter and he had already killed two people a couple of days ago. He could not be so careless, or he would have to change his dwelling place again. Still, the temptation was too great.

He ran a hand over his face unconsciously, rubbing the bone protruding from his cheekbones. A long forgotten gesture from the past life, which for some reason hadn't been killed by the magic of the Lich King. However, that was all that was left in him from a human.

_You can't help me..._

Kaetana could have sworn that the knight still wanted something of her.

But perhaps he simply confused her with someone else, and finally recognized the mistake.

...Solid, regular face features. The solitary eye is full of glowing ice. The lips as if smeared with ashes. The bone in a narrow torn wound on his cheek is gleaming white. Former beauty, crossed out with the reality of deformity...

Kaetana never detained her look at such things. She was not afraid of death knights, she had even slept embracing one of them once, let alone she had seen all sorts of wounds and other delights in her life so many times that it would be enough for a dozen men. It was all familiar to her.

"You're sure?" she asked just in case, ready to leave.

Weariness made itself felt. It was time to go; tomorrow she wouldn't get enough sleep, as usual...

Oswald's horse moved its leg, gritting its horseshoe on the pavement, betraying the signs that it is still not a statue, but a living being in a way for the first time since the conversation started. This brought Anderfels from a kind of trance into which he had already managed to fall.

"Yes", he replied, turning away. It was as if he was ashamed to stand before the girl, full of life and beauty that were almost visibly flowing around her. Of course, it was pointless. He was unable to experience such feelings as shame. But it seemed to him that she knew something about him - something that he would never open to anyone, and it infuriated him even more than his own doubts.

He clenched his fist, and something of a struggle reflected in his face, giving his already not too attractive face an expression of some kind of half-mad joy mixed with hatred. The knight's eye flared with a bluish light, and his hatred cut through the girl like a knife.

"Leave", the death knight said, staggering in place like a drunk. "Go away. No matter where to. Just don't get in my way ever again". He turned away, pulled his hood and took the horse by the reins; he went to one of the side streets of the Cathedral Quarter where his lair was located.

Home... this word was no longer familiar to him. Home was the place where he could be alone, though loneliness became his faithful companion from the very moment when his eyes closed and his body was left lying on the battlefield. Secretly, he hoped that he will stumble upon this annoying loudly barking dog, and he could kill it to soothe his pain a bit. He could no longer remain close to that woman and pretend that he did not care. She was lucky that he wasn't hungry. Next time he wouldn't give her such a chance, however he didn't particularly know why he gave it now. Maybe because he didn't want to get in trouble. And maybe for some other reason.

Kaetana shrugged her shoulders, and after glancing at the knight for a few moments, she went up the steps to the entrance of the Cathedral.

He was bad. Very bad. But he didn't need help. There was no such cure to remedy death... it hadn't been created yet.

Once again turning to where the rhytmic clinking of horseshoes subsided in the alley, where the shadows engulfed the high gloomy figure of the knight, Kaetana entered the Cathedral.

Something in her soul was whirling, tossing, falling slowly, and settling like ash in a glass of bright water... Something that the death knight left for her.

It will be over soon.

...Shortly, the night fell onto the Cathedral Quarter, and it struck midnight in the chapel. Life was slowly coming back into its place, because the city didn't sleep even at night.

The dog let out a prolonged and high squeal in the distance and fell silent, but no one paid any attention to this. Everything was going as usual, and no one remembered the phantom of the past that swept through the streets like cold wind, and just as the wind he left nothing behind except for a shiver somewhere down the spine. No one remembered something that didn't want to be remembered; something that was torn away by the mind as having no value and impossible to understand.

And even the priestess had soon lost the feeling that the death knight gave her. She was alive, and therefore couldn't keep those ashes in her soul long. The thing that had always been with him in his un-life. The thing that he wanted to give her so much, to share his suffering in exchange for her life. But this was merely a fleeting dream. Nothing more.

* * *

The Dwarven Quarter was gradually calming down. In the evening, there were fewer customers and the blacksmiths quietly seized their activities. Some hammer blows were heard only in a small building in the middle of the block. A small window was brightly lighted, and in it one could perfectly see an elf standing at a forge. The door was tightly closed, a narrow strip of light beaming through a small gap onto the pavement.

Heinrich thoughtfully examined the door and the surrounding buildings. It seemed that the boy was talking about this smithy exactly.

Cracking his neck, Gayle forcefully hit the door a few times.

"Ligrim, open up!"

A few seconds later the door opened, and an elf appeared on the doorstep, clutching a steel chisel in his hand.

"Heinrich, is that you? What's up with the hurry? Something happened?" the elf wondered.

"Yes. We need to talk", Gayle looked up at the elf. "Can I come in?"

"Oh, right, come in". The elf went to the table, letting Heinrich inside. "Just shut the door".

The man nodded and shook the dirt off his shoes, walking inside the smithy, closing the door behind him and looking about him with boredom.

"First, answer the standard questions: are you free now and can you keep secrets?"

"Yes, to the both questions". — The elf sat down into a chair and clasped his hands together.

"Perfect, that's what I was expecting". — Gayle approached the anvil in order to see the elf's next creation. — "The case is more than specific for me. However, it came from a man who first of all, is very interested in the implementation of it and secondly, pays more than well".

Picking up a strip of metal that may someday become a sword or dagger, Gayle looked at the wall thoughtfully.

"Currently four murders have been committed in Old Town, with an interval of nearly a month. In both cases, they found couples of young people in terrible condition which can not be attributed neither to the attacks of thugs nor to any other domestic incidents".

Turning to face Ligrim and tossing the metal strip in his hand, Heinrich went on:

"As I have heard in fact the murders are likely to be of a ritual or some other nature. People were dismembered into small pieces and then somehow hidden from the common eyes, giving the killer or killers some time".

Walking around the room and examining the tools, the man continued:

"The following is in no doubt: the murders were unplanned or had a pretty wild scenario; the murders were rather cruel in nature, which makes it possible to assume magical overtones; and the killer did not leave any traces. Soon I will receive the copies of the guard reports, but I don't think I will learn anything new".

The elf listened carefully, never interrupting Gayle.

"Always couples?"

"Well, there are two cases that we are aware of. In both cases it was couples. A man and a woman. Prostitutes both times, but the men have different social statuses. Either regularity or coincidence; it's still impossible to say for sure".

"Strange indeed. Who requested to find the killer?"

"That shouldn't be of interest to you; the customer wished to remain anonymous. One thing is for sure, it's not his own doing".

"Very, very peculiar... But what do you want from me?"

"I want you to go to the place of the last murder with me, and together we will examine it. Knowing how the guard works and the relative recency of the event, I dare suggest that we may find something to clarify the case. I'm going to visit the morgue in the morning; now nobody will let anybody in".

Gayle put the workpiece down and lit a cigarette with a piece of coal from the furnace.

"Get dressed and take your weapon. Just in case..."

The elf nodded, walked to the back of the smithy and came back in a few minutes wearing his usual black cloak. The weapon was nowhere in sight.

"I'm ready".

Heinrich nodded and walked out.

Gayle was silent on the way to the place of murder, only once he did ask a question.

"Do you think that such assassinations can be a sign that Twilight Hammer showed up again?"

"Until I see the crime scene, I can't say anything certain".

That was all.

Drizzling rain began dirt and slop that always accompany the big city mingled underfoot.

And there was the place...

"Operative working"...

Heinrich thoughtfully examined the fence and crates that blocked the alley.

"Ligrim, there it is".

And without waiting for approval, Gayle began to climb onto the fence.

The elf hemmed and climbed behind silently. He jumped down from the other side and looked around.

"We didn't think of taking a flashlight with us, did we...?"

Gayle sighed and looked around in order to find anything that can provide light.

"Hmmm... We certainly didn't. Can you see anything at all?"

"Relatively so, but in this situation we won't find anything..."

"Well, Ligrim, stay here, I'll be right back. There are a few of my friends; I'll tell them to bring some light".

"Go ahead, I'll wait. I'm curious myself".

Gayle nodded, climbed up the boxes and disappeared after having a look at the street from the top.

Light flickered over the crates in a few minutes, and two figures appeared, one of them was carrying a lantern.

"This is Paw. He's with us and will tell us about what he saw".

Jumping down, Heinrich glanced around more carefully and headed for the blackening entrance to the sewers.

"Paw? I remember something... Oh well", the elf followed Gayle.

Paw hesitated in place and followed the elf, constantly looking around.

"Is it true that zombies killed five people here?"

"We didn't invite you for discussion", Heinrich winced whether at the smell or at the 'zombie killers', "but to provide light. Mind your own business, if you please".

"Allright, Doc".

Heinrich sat down on his knees and inspected the passage, on which they had set a new door with a large padlock. Picking some dirt with his finger, he showed the result to Ligrim.

"They tried to clean up here, but there's no blood, and the ground is old. If the corpse was torn to pieces, it had to be soaked with bodily fluids. But ground is clean..."

"Interesting... Did the murder take place here?"

"Apparently, yes. Or the corpses had been pumped out of blood, collected in a pile, brought here, and crammed into the sewer... And everything close to a very busy street", Gayle pointed somewhere to the right. One of the brothels is situated there. For those who have gold. So I think that the victim walked out of there with a girlfriend, then came here... or they were lured... And got killed".

"How long ago?'

"Don't know. The corpses were found a day ago".

"A day... Then who the hell has cleaned up here?" the elf squatted down, rubbed the dirt in his fingers, even sniffed it.

"The case is very peculiar, and our King doesn't like to worry his subjects. They've even set up a fence and closed down the sewers".

Gayle chewed his lip.

"Paw, what exactly have you seen?"

"Nothing special, Doc. Me and the boys watched as the corpses were loaded. One was got out literally in buckets! And then all somehow got scared, sent a man to the GHQ, quickly swept around and poured water, the dwarves set up the door and blocked the alley".

Gayle nodded.

"I think it's fitting, for a murder like this".

"Goddammit, fucking wiseacres... Trampled everything here to hell. Paw! Tell me what you saw. How the corpses were loaded".

"In buckets, elf. In buckets. Well, one of them for sure, the second was still intact, but I didn't notice anything special, sorry".

The elf straightened and spat out angrily.

"Swept everything, flooded ereything! Everything! And what should I look for here? Paw, did you see anything unusual on the ground until this wiseacres dug their noses here?"

"No, elf, nothing here. And even if there was anything interesting, they took it away".

Gayle shrugged, getting up from his squatting position.

"We have to see everything by ourselves here, Ligrim. Why don't you inspect the right side, and I'll take the left. And we must carefully examine it all. Maybe we'll find something".

"All I can say is one thing. It's not the Hammer. Not their style".

The elf straightened up and went to the right side, carefully examining everything around.

"Gayle! Some light needed here..."

Having got his hands behind his back and sometimes poking the ground with his boot, Heinrich walked by the left side. After he heard Ligrim, he gestured Paw to approach the elf and then went on his way. He bent over the ground, found a tooth and began to study it attentively.

"Ligrim, what have you got there?.."

"A scrape on the wall... Paw, I need light here".

The elf tapped on the wall and narrowed his eyes.

"A scrape made by something very sharp. A sword, I guess, its very tip. The masonry here is brick and the scratch is smooth, as if the blade cut through like butter. There's no blood, but I think someone was killed here, apparently decapitated. It feels like they struck with a swipe, chopped off the head and grazed the masonry", the elf squatted down. "No blood of course. Dammit... What do you got?"

"A tooth. I think that the story of the corpse taken out in buckets is truer than we think".

Gayle sighed and dropped the tooth on the ground.

"I think we got nothing more to do here. I'm going to the morgue tomorrow. Then I'll let you know how it went. Deal?"

"Deal. One thing is for sure, we can dismiss Twilight Hammer right away. It's not their style. Maybe some local psychopath", the elf straightened up with a sigh. "You said you would receive the reports of the guard. Can I have a look? And at what you will see in the morgue. They have swept up all the traces, and have done it well, not a damn thing to find. I'd tear of their frigging hands... The guard trampled everything even more so. Paw, so you say one man was taken out in buckets and the second man was more or less intact?"

"The second woman, elf. The second was a woman, and she was covered with burlap, but they carried her by the arms and legs". Trampling on the spot, the man wondered. "Is Doc gone already?"

Gayle walked down the street, leaving Ligrim to deal with the volunteer and twisted a cigarette between his fingers, thinking what kind of trouble he got himself into this time...

"Okay, Paw, good luck. I'm sure I've definitely seen you somewhere before..." the elf smirked, lit a cigarette and walked back the same way that they'd arrived here with Heinrich.

* * *

Gayle entered Elza's room chewing on something. Pensively examining the sleeping woman, the man sighed and approached, putting a glass of cold milk to her forehead.

Livlett rolled over and grabbed the pillow, hugged it and muttered something that could not be heard properly in her sleep. Her clothes were hanging nearby on the back of a chair, and the woman was dressed only in her underwear.

Gayle sighed and put the glass between the shoulder blades.

"Rise and shine, Elza. I need you, you can sleep enough later".

She kicked her leg, trying to resist someone who so obsessed with waking her up so early, but probably she couldn't get much sleep anymore. Letting out a sigh, she opened her eyes and looked at Heinrich as if he was a demon from the Void itself.

"Well, what do you want?"

Gayle handed the glass to Elza, reaching for a cigarette with his other hand.

"Do you remember I told you last night that we had been hired by some rather serious people to investigate the killings? Today we'll go to the morgue. Wash your face, I'll tell you what we have found with Ligrim.

"Interesting. Why do you need me?" Elza asked, pulling her clothes on and drinking up the milk. "I'm not particularly big on cadavers. And anyway, it seems to me that all this is in no way connected, and people believe just out of fear that the murders were committed by one person".

Gayle leaned against the door frame, looking at the exit from the hallway.

"The people have already guessed that the killers were zombies, so you shouldn't believe everything they say. However, the murders have been similar in execution and victims. Although I'll be able to say for sure only after the third incident".

"So we'll wait for the third murder?" Elza asked in surprise, buttoning up her jacket. The mornings, especially early ones, were quite chilly. "Don't you think it's a bit too much?"

"We won't wait, Elza. We'll just do what we can". Turning around and glancing at the woman, Gayle smiled awkwardly. "We're paid for vengeance, not for leisure".

Without saying anything else, Heinrich went to the exit.

"Hey, wait!" She ran after him, trying to pull on her boot on the go and to hang the knife on her belt, just in case.

On their way, Gayle told briefly about what they had discovered... or rather, hadn't discovered with Ligrim. It was more than cool outside, and there was a thick fog which appeared to be the consequence of the yesterday's rain.

A bright beautiful building came slowly out of the fog. And who could say that there was a morgue in the basement of this building... Field surgeons were trained on the upper floors, but the future healers were nowhere to be seen at this early hour.

Gayle ignored the main entrance and opened a small gate, marching through the neighborhood to the distant back entrance.

"I don't like it here", Elza shivered, shaking off the sticky mud of her boots. She had absolutely no desire to look at the corpses; what Heinrich had described to her was more than enough. But something was not right here. Ligrim... She thought of him all of a sudden.

"Don't you worry, it's okay".

Gayle banged his fist on the door.

A minute later, shuffling steps could be heard behind the door, and it open slightly to let a long hooked nose stick outside.

"Who's there? I can't let anyone in: orders of superiors".

Instead of answering, Heinrich reached into his pocket, pulled out a few folded sheets of paper and gave them to the stranger.

"We have our own orders".

After a while, the door opened to the full width and displayed the owner of the nose: a high creaker in a worn business suit and house slippers.

"Why so early? You could've come later".

"Work isn't waiting".

"I see", the man said, handing the documents to Gayle. "But better yet an hour later... My clients don't usually run away".

Gayle did not react to the remark, squeezed between the man and the opened door, and began to walk down the stairs.

Elza smiled uncertainly at the old guy and squeezed after Heinrich. With her height, she had to bend so as not to bang her head against the door frame, and that greatly spoiled her attempt to sneak into the room quickly and quietly after Heinrich. Deciding that showing off in front of Gramps was completely useless, she walked after Gayle straightening her disheveled hair.

Heinrich entered a long hall, at the sides of which there were tables with bodies covered with burlap.

"Where are our guys, mister?"

"Here you go". The man proceeded to a closed door in a bouncy gait, shuffling his slippers and ignoring the cold. "You understand that this is a delicate matter, so I keep them away..."

Tinkering with the lock a little, he flung open the door and stepped back.

"I have seen them already a few times, I won't mingle. If you need anything or are going to leave, I'm right there. Knock on the door and I'll come back".

Gayle nodded and entered a small room where it was obviously colder than in the main hall. There were five tables in the room, three of them were occupied.

"So then, the son has already been taken... bad".

Coming up to the first table and looking at the paper tag on his toe, Gayle nodded.

"Victim one. Male. Worker from one of the shops. Age nineteen. Died of a gnawed throat".

Holding the corners of the fabric, Heinrich pulled it off abruptly, revealing the naked body.

"Gna... what?" Elza choked, staring at the body with wide eyes. "Gnawed? Who? How? Why?!" She couldn't understand why someone suddenly needede take away a person's life using their teeth. And it seemed more likely as if the boy had been attacked by an angry worgen. Elza shuddered. She had already seen the same picture somewhere, except that the face was different. Blood drained from her face and she shrank back, barely suppressing a sudden desire to throw up.

Gayle looked at Elza and walked over to her tight-lipped, closing the ugly picture from her glance.

"Stop panicking. Take a deep breath... Come on, breathe in and out... Breathe".

Gently patting Elza's cheek, Heinrich smiled awkwardly.

"If you want to leave, then go. But if you want to help me, either be patient, or…" Reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small hand-rolled cigarette, the man handed it to Elza. "Here, it's not poison, just calms you down a bit".

"No thanks", Elza shook her head. She had already come to her senses more or less, but she still looked pale. "I'm okay. It's just... I remembered something. Something similar". She paused, turning away from the corpse. "What's next?"

Gayle nodded, removed the cigarette, and came up to the table.

"And indeed, they literally gnawed his throat. Using their teeth…" After searching for some kind of medical instruments and not finding anything suitable, Heinrich took a knife out his sleeve and cautiously lifted one and then the other edge of the wound. "Nothing here is clear. Rats did their job here... bad".

Straightening his back, the man once again examined the body.

"And here are the wounds that had been inflicted in the moment of murder. Puncture... round... five of them. And apparently, they had been inflicted with something wooden: see the splinters here? I have a suggestion, but we need the second corpse for this".

"Wooden? What is it, a vampire hunt?" Elza realized that her joke failed, and scowled even more. "It's too many coincidences. I mean, throat gnawing, then chest piercing with a stake. Too... diverse for one and the same killer".

"I think so too", Heinrich said, throwing off the burlap from the second body and wincing as it could barely be called a body any longer. Apparently, morgue workers spent a long time trying to gather the body in one... pile? Pieces and shreds that simply could not be placed correctly were lying next to the feet.

"What is this?" Elza approached the body and grimaced. "How... who is that? Have they identified the body? Although, probably that's a stupid question..."

"We'll have to look at the documents of the guard, there is nothing written here". Gayle looked at the tag. "Only that it's a woman... Well, that I can see for myself. We are not interested in her gender, so let's proceed to the inspection. Look, the lower jaw… We figured it correct with you: it was she that gnawed his throat. Here it is, see? The teeth are broken off a bit; and there are pieces of meat stuck in them. So... where's her hand... The righ one is clean. And here... look, splinters and a wound here. Evidently, she had been striking with something wooden, and it broke down in her hand".

"That is, she killed the guy?" Elza stared at Heinrich with a mixture of disbelief and delight. He spotted something that she would never have noticed, given the other... colorful details. "But that just doesn't make any sense!"

"Maybe it's just memories of my former clients, but if they had taken control over her... And simply forced her to kill the guy first, and then they killed her... Well then, at least it is clear why one victim is different from another in a manner of murder, but both are connected to each other by a single... Ripper of some kind!"

Gayle grimaced and rubbed his hands. He was utterly disgusted to see such cruelty, which was pointless at least with the known facts.

"But why? Why take her under control and force to kill the guy, and then kill her? It doesn't make any sense... After all, if she survived, she would be considered responsible for all the crimes..." Elza rubbed her chin thoughtfully. And why would they dismember the girl's corpse and leave the guy just like that, with such obvious traces?"

Gayle shrugged.

"Maybe the killer is a madman, maybe he enjoyed the panic of this woman, maybe this guy was somehow able to grab the killer and deprive him of the ability to move... Too many maybes..."

Heinrich turned his head looking at the man and then at the woman.

"The killer somehow takes control over the woman's brain, causes her to kill her companion, thus absolutely without interference into what is happening. After that he begins to cut her into small pieces with a very sharp weapon... Disgusting".

"You're right", Elza resisted the urge to spit on the clean floor. "Let's not look at it any longer than necessary. What else is there?"

Gayle nodded and proceeded to the last table.

"A new victim. According to the card, she was murdered three days ago. She was engaged in prostitution in one of the brothels of Old Town".

A jerk - and the burlap flies to the floor, and there is a body of a rather pretty girl lying on the table with a deep wound in her chest area.

"She was killed less... bloodthirsty, but according to the records she has no heart".

"Now, that is the cultists' style", Elza murmured, leaning over the girl. "Looks like it. Usually they sacrifice people organs… young women's often. Has the heart never been found?"

Gayle shook his head and "opened" the girl's ribs.

"A clean work, nothing to add here. Neat cuts, neat fractures... Wait. Elza, keep it this way, I need to check something".

Grimacing, she warily took hold of the edge of the wound with her faintly shaking hands.

"Please, hurry. I don't want to touch it". She looked away, trying not to peer inside the cut.

Gayle carefully pulled the skin with his knife along the bottom edge of the right-wing ribs, and gently made an incision. Grasping the edges of the wound and pulling it, Heinrich "opened" the woman a little wider and bit his lip.

"That's how it is…"

Letting go of the ribs and proceeding to the pieces of the first woman, the man started poking around in them.

Elza broke down and took a step back from the dead body, almost tripped over a cabinet with tools and swore to herself. She's just a sissy... but war is one thing, and poking around in corpses and examining entrails just like that is another thing.

"You... what have you found?" she tried to give her voice a more calm tone, although she clearly felt the cold sweat streaming down her forehead.

Gayle turned around and frowned at Elza.

"We've got problems... Both women have no blood. Looks like your stupid joke about vampires had a reason".

The silence in the morgue was shattered by a knock on the door and the shuffling of the creaker's slippers.

"Hello, Lieutenant! Want to examine the bodies again? Sure, of course, come in".

Gayle looked around, wiped his hands with a clean piece of burlap, and muttered "Get out" to Elza. Pulling the peak of his cap lower down, Heinrich headed into the street ignoring the curious gaze of the investigator.

Elza quickly left after Heinrich. It seems they had been in the morgue for longer than it appeared: sun was shining already in full, and the morning wind abated little by little. Elza unbuttoned her jacket and lifted her pale face to the sunlight. She came out of there at last...

"Have any ideas?" she asked as she walked next to Gayle and looked at him askance.

"I have to think it all over. I've seen such cruelty, but this happening in the capital… It's something new for me".

Wrapping himself up in the cloak more tightly, Gayle marched towards his home.


End file.
